second part, which happens after this part. extended by another part, for those few that saw this as a WIP.

*****

The four--or somewhat less than four--of them were riding, and there was one following, the third bright one, the one that wasn't (probably) the cridhos and definitely wasn't the mage they were riding with, flicking in and out on the edge of their senses, like deamhan campfire. Female, they thought, and young, more curious than anything.

i had a request for rin and tiun's early adventures and several for indirect force [sidhe!team leverage], so hey, multiple birds in one fic. first part.

****The message arrived via a brightly dancing butterfly, which, once it caught their attention, unfurled its wings wider and then wider still, into an explosion of red-orange feathers, tipped with black and blue as if dipped into ink wells, attached to a black-haired, black-eyed, shyly giggling cherub. This spoke to a different sort of urgency; Huan didn't often trust messages with the butterfly-minded among the fravashi.

He was apart from the others, glinting gold, but darkly, as if doing his best to mask the light; alone, and longing for company, which seemed a strange contradiction, when he could simply leave the darkened bedroom he was standing in and satisfy that longing in a thousand different places. She spotted him as she flew over anyway, dimmed and hiding or no, due to his very loud and persistent strangeness, and she was still curious about him.

"Oh Frigga." He gasped--they were far enough above the waves that she heard him clearly, and then a whispered curse that was also a fervent prayer, and the distressed groan after that. She looked down at the boy that was clinging to the cliff-face in the grip of an inexplicable terror. Only the lower half of his face was visible beneath the brim of his hat; his chin and nose, and she could see the thin film of sweat on his upper lip and collecting along straining forearms bared by his rolled-up sleeves, with eyes as sharp as her hearing.

delande and nemanda, pre-alistar, and also, pre-pride. request was for what happened after delande called nemanda beautiful.

****

There were plenty of obvious, pragmatic reasons, socially relevant, politics-and-power-based, make-maithre-and-aithre-proud reasons why Delande should take interest in Nemanda Murtagh A'Lir. This was good, because it would not give her away to show it; it was in her, by birth and by training to immediately be drawn to trace the specific lines of power to the hands that held them.

Delande found that old habits died hard; the child in her had the excuses ready, as she hurried into the hall in which Lugh was more sprawled, by her way of looking at it, than properly reclined--he'd given up sitting on the throne in favor of sitting on the steps at the foot of it and using the seat as a small table to hold a cup and wineskin; his cloak and shirts and sashes everywhere, his hair in disarray above the gold coronet, and a pipe to his mouth. She took a moment to simply look at him, and smile, before she spoke.

The first person Grainne Frangag met upon navigating the winding way up to the Ard Ri's front door--or doors, as the case may be, with a small and tired tot in tow, was a man that looked far too young to be so old. His dark brown hair had nary a streak of gray in it, yet he was hobbling stiffly and more slowly than Grainne could imagine herself ever doing, while leaning on a walking stick of several vines woven together. The fellow was looking far-away and idly at nothing in particular, as a few young foxes tumbled around his feet.

gavian and lugh. >_>; i actually posted this last night, but as far as i can tell, the post acted as if it were backdated, so i'm trying again. my apologies if this is your second time seeing it. this particular lj is plagued with tech issues, so i don't think i'll be going in for a plus lj in the future.

*****

"GAVI!" Lugh exclaimed as he strode in, waving a scroll grandly. "So good to see you!"

The sigh that followed was quite audible. And the dryness of tone after could've been used to sop up half the world's seas and still been thirsty for more.

There were a few things Jia understood, even at such a tender age as she was, and one of them was that the things that she and Huan were oft most excited about were things that their lady mother tended to disapprove of.

consider it an on-going kinda thing--i'm going down the list, which means i'm jumping all over the place. if i post something, and you'd like me to continue pursuing that thread, PLEASE let me know, and i'll add it on, se maith? se maith. =)

i know this is way different than i normally do things, but it seems to be working, so hey! welcome to tirnanog? ;)

His opinion appeared to be the minority, however, because from what he could tell, lifted from everything from actual words, to the slightest shift of expression of those around him, to the sheer volume of wine being imbibed implied that this was some of the Imperion's finest, ( and if that were the case, it must be true. )

Grainne Frangag was a sidhe woman who identified mostly with the handful of dust in their fabled origins. Neutral of aura, gray of cloth, completely methodical, and inclined to settle at the least excuse, she thought mostly in slow comfortable circles, and was inclined to believe that every problem could be solved, if not avoided outright, if one were only sensible enough about it.

Matteu SeWyn= the planner. he's a tirnanog cridhos with a massive sugar addiction problem.Soloni = the grifter. is ms-not-appearing-in-this-fic. maybe next time. ;)Ever Turi = the hitter. tirnanog merc.Xandre Aten=the hacker. avalon rianic auger/mageRose Petora = the thief. norther war orphan with a slight doormage ability; not gifted enough to have quite as many of the problems that go along with, or conversely, to get ceannard trap's attention.